Restoration
by writersiouxchef
Summary: Jasper Whitlock: loyal husband and brother, brilliant military strategist, fierce warrior, empath. What were his beginnings? What did he endure in his 20 mortal years and a century as a bloodthirsty killer to bring him to Alice?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: _This is the journey of Jasper Whitlock. This is not a fluffy journey, but will be worth it in the end. This story is rated M for a reason, as there will be violence, sex, blood, vamp sex, bloodlust vamp sex, and a whole host of other mature shit. If you're not 18, you shouldn't be reading this. This means you, and you over there._

_Many thanks to the Furious 5 who read the outline and first word vomit and told me it didn't suck._

_Big kisses to Lolashoes, who encouraged me and flogged my dragging ass into gear, saving this chapter from the fire too many times to count. You did 11pm beta duties and special WC challenges. Get the Vegas tickets girl, I'll iron my dress._

_Lastly, but most assuredly not least, to Mskathy. You gave this adoring stranger the opportunity to step off the sidelines and join in the fun of fanfiction by checking your grammar. I would not be doing this today had you not taken the chance, and I am forever grateful._

_I don't own 'em, not at all._

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"Jasper, it's almost time, honey," my mother's voice called from downstairs.

"OK, Mama, I'll be down shortly. I'm almost ready."

"Don't dally now, Jasper, today is an important day you know," she scolded. "The guests will start arrivin' in an hour and I need you down here to greet them."

"Yes, Mama. I'll be down directly." I turned back to the full length mirror in my bedroom, glancing over my appearance again. I smoothed my hair, the same color has _her_ hair, and straightened my tie and jacket. I closed my eyes and allowed the feeling of dread to take over for just this moment, this one small window of solitude before I had to be the strong son to my mother and give my sister away to another man. I had the briefest of moments to reflect upon my past 17 years of life and happiness, before it would be forever changed.

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My twin sister Olivia and I were born on the hottest day on record in August of 1843, on our cattle ranch near the town of Laredo, Texas. My mother, Elva, was a strong-willed woman with honey-blonde hair and flint grey eyes that she passed on to my sister and I. My father, Clarence, was a ranch man, tall and lean but muscular. He was of a quiet nature; pensive and intelligent. Daddy had a way of making people around him feel calm and peaceful. He was a fair and ethical man for the times, and though the needs of the ranch kept him away for long periods of time, he loved our Mama and us fiercely.

Our family was one of the few who didn't keep slaves for work. We lived close to the border of Mexico and Daddy and Mama became close with some of the natives when they first struck the land. Instead of fighting with the locals like most of the homesteaders, Daddy made friends with the menfolk there. His gentle demeanor and easy-going nature made it easy for them to like him. There were several families who lived close to their homestead, and before long they included Mama and Daddy into their extended family and helped Daddy start up the ranch. These families became our ranch hand families, the men helping Daddy with the cattle and the women helping Mama with the household. Livvie and I grew up surrounded by the rich culture of Mexico, cared for by the women of the ranch hands.

Livvie and I were very close. From the time we were born, we shared a special bond. It almost felt like we shared the same mind sometimes, almost as if we were 2 parts of the same person. Mama told us that we didn't speak with words until we were about 4 years old, preferring only the company of each other and our silent twin language. We refused to be separated; we slept together in the same bed, foreheads touching and hands clasped together every night. Daddy never minded, but Mama finally put her foot down when we were 6.

I was outside helping feed the cattle that day. The spring alfalfa smelled sweet and lush, the hot sun releasing the perfume into the air. The cattle had been to pasture all morning until Daddy and some of the men rounded them up and drove them home for the night. I had held the gate open for them to stampede through, taking my small job seriously.

"That's good, Son. Real good job." Daddy's eyes sparkled with pride, his smile gleaming down upon me. "Keep that gate open 'til they're all inside."

"Yes, sir!" I shouted, trying to make my small voice be heard over the lowing cattle.

Daddy ruffled my hair and helped me to close the gate. He placed his large hand upon my shoulder as we walked to the wheelbarrow full of hay.

I laughed as Daddy swung me up and tossed me on top of the pile of feed, giving me a short ride back to the corral to begin feeding.

"Jasper," he started hesitantly. I turned my attention to him. He wiped his face with his hankerchief, and placed it back into his pocket.

"Your Mama and I think it's time you and Olivia slept in your own rooms. You're gettin' too big to be carryin' on like babies, so tonight you are going to sleep in the room down the hall, and Livvie will stay in her room, do you understand?" His face was soft, but impassive.

I felt stunned, like someone had slapped me. Daddy kept staring at me, and I couldn't look away. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. _They're taking her away from me. They can't take her away from me._

"Jasper? Jasper, do you understand me, boy?" I heard Daddy from far away. My ears were ringing, my breath coming in shallow gasps now. I hadn't spent a night away from Olivia, not since the day we were born.

Terror flooded my veins, causing me to panic and run back towards the barn. I had to get away....

"Jasper? Jasper!!" Daddy screamed after me, but I didn't stop running until I made it to the safety of the barn. Once I got there, I collapsed on the floor and let all the anguish I was feeling out in a wild torrent.

"NO!NONONONONONONO!!!!!!!!" I screamed until I ran out of breath, my hands gripped into my hair on either side of my head. I cried and cried, unable to comprehend the decision that Mama had made. I staggered back to the barn door, collapsing onto my knees and retching into the dirt.

Daddy caught up with me then, kneeling down on the barn floor and gathering me up into his arms.

"Son, you need to stop now," he said, hugging me tightly ,his words firm. "You're gettin' too old to sleep with your sister. I know you are upset, but I need you to be a man about this. Especially for Livvie."

I was torn. I felt as if part of me was being ripped apart at just the thought of sleeping alone. The other part wanted to be strong and do what Mama and Daddy said was best for Livvie. I sat motionless for a moment, waging war between my mind and my heart.

My loyalty to Livvie and my need to make Mama and Daddy proud won out. I swiped a dirty hand across my eyes and set my mouth in a firm line, willing my voice not betray my heartbreak. "Yes, sir," I responded, and began to walk toward the house with a heavy heart.

When it was time for bed, I went to my room and changed into my nightclothes, the horror of what was to come slowly creeping up on me. I joined Mama, Daddy and Olivia in the family room to say our nightly prayers. I prayed that God would give me the strength not to cry, not to be afraid, even though it felt like my world was breaking apart. I prayed for him to keep Livvie safe at night, to keep the wind from frightening her. Livvie was scared of the dark and frightened of the sound of the wind through the trees. I would hold her hands and sing to her in our secret language to keep her fear at bay. I prayed for him to make my anguish worth it, because it was what Mama and Daddy said was best for her. I felt my small heart crack and I had to dig my fingernails into the backs of my clasped hands to keep from crying again.

Livvie kept nudging me all through our prayers, trying to get me to look at her. I couldn't look at her, knowing what was coming.

Mama and Daddy walked us down the hall towards the bedrooms. Livvie bounded into her room and jumped into the bed, the same as she did every night. She cozied into her side of the bed and looked to me, eyes bright and happy. "Aren't you coming to bed now, Jasper?" she asked in her tiny bird voice.

I looked to the floor, unable to form the words to answer her. Mama stepped in front of me then. "No, Olivia," she responded. "You are too big to be sleepin' with your brother. Jasper will be sleepin' in his own room from now on. It's time you both grew up a little." Her voice rang with finality.

Livvie's face went slack with shock. I waited for her screaming, her tears, but they didn't come. I raised my eyes to look at her, and I saw her face......change. Her face went from shock to....nothing. I was looking at Livvie, and she just _wasn't there anymore. _My pulse started to race, my mouth went dry.

Livvie took one long look at me, then laid her head down on her pillow. Not moving, not speaking. It was as if she just shut herself down. I ran down to my room, closing myself inside and surrendering to the burning pain I felt inside.

We lasted 2 days. Livvie remained motionless and catatonic in her room. She refused meals and refused to speak to Mama and Daddy. I raged and vented my pain and anger inside my room, crying and screaming my anguish until finally, Mama and Daddy couldn't take it anymore. They allowed us to reunite in the same room, however we had to sleep in separate beds. Livvie and I clung to each other for the rest of that day, refusing to be parted. Daddy moved my bed into Livvie's larger bedroom, and we slept the first night with our hands joined and our bodies in our own beds.

Olivia was my best friend and confidant, and besides Mama and Daddy the only person I felt emotionally bonded to. I was a sensitive child; hyperaware of my own emotions internally and to of the feelings of people around me. I had an inkling when someone felt happy, or sad, or angry. I knew what to do to make Mama smile if she seemed down. I knew to keep quiet if it felt like Daddy was angry. I couldn't tell you how I knew these things, it was something intangible. It was strongest with Livvie, and sometimes I think I could _make_ her feel things, just from concentrating hard enough. Because I was so emotionally volatile, I sometimes couldn't quell the feelings inside me and I would become upset, fearful, angry. Olivia was the only person who could make everything inside me be still, just by touching my hand.

Mama taught us our lessons at home until we were about 6 or 7 and then Livvie and I went to school with the local children in Laredo. Mama and Daddy were both well educated people and it was important to them that their children be educated as well. My after-school time was spent working with the men on the ranch and playing with Livvie and the ranch hand kids. It was the men of the ranch that taught me work ethic and pride, the ways of ranching and other skills necessary for men.

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When I was 9 years old, I came home from school with a black eye and a split lip. Mama surveyed me, and then looked at Livvie's dirt- and tear-streaked face.

"Jasper Whitlock, what happened here?" she asked tersely. I looked away, ashamed of the truth. I couldn't meet her eye as she glared at me.

Livvie came to my aid, like she always did. "Jasper was defendin' me, Mama," she said in a small voice. "Some boys were pickin' on me and pullin' my hair at school. Jasper came up and told them to leave me alone, said that was not the way to treat a lady," she spoke a little louder then, her eyes flitting to me in silent adoration.

"Those boys said I wasn't a lady and they could pull my hair if they wanted to. Jasper got angry and hit one of the boys, and then they all jumped on him," she finished, trying to keep her tears at bay. Olivia was ashamed that she didn't help me, but there was no way I would let those boys lay another finger on her.

Mama listened intently to Livvie's story, but kept her gaze fixed upon me the whole time. Her face was stone; immobile, flinty and hard.

"Thank you, Livvie," Mama said, drawing herself up and squaring her shoulders. "Put your books down and go help Inez in the kitchen, please," she said, still not looking away from my face. I kept my eyes trained on the floor, too ashamed to look up at her.

"Please, Mama, don't punish him...." Livvie began, before Mama cut her off sharply.

"Olivia, do as I say!" she said, nodding her head sharply towards the kitchen and casting her fiery gaze upon my sister briefly before returning it to me.

"Yes, Mama," Livvie said, turning abruptly and racing into the kitchen, dropping her books on the table on her way. I could hear her sobbing all the way down the hall. Olivia could not bear to see me punished for anything. She always tried to take the blame upon herself and spare me the rod, but I never let her. I would do anything to keep her safe; I would walk through fire if it meant she wouldn't be hurt.

Mama continued to keep her silent stare upon me for a few moments. I could feel her eyes boring into me, but I still couldn't look at her. My shame and sorrow at my failure was too much. Finally, she heaved a heavy sigh. "Jasper, look at me." Her voice was soft but commanding.

I finally lifted my eyes from the floor and met her gray ones. Instead of the raging anger I expected to see, Mama's face was conflicting swirl of pride and sorrow.

"Son," she began softly. "I am more proud of you than I can express. Your Daddy and I raised you to understand how women should be treated and you showed me today that you've been listenin' all this time. I'm sorry he's not here to help you learn how to stand up for yourself. Fighting is a man's business," she said, a sad look passing over her face. "This is something you're going to have to work out on your own. Now go wash up and get ready for your supper." She turned and walked back into the kitchen, but not before she gave me the most pointed and peculiar look.

I went into the washroom to clean up my face and wash my hands before supper. After drying my face on a towel, I looked into the mirror to survey the damage done. My eyes sharpened with a small wave of pride. For fighting with three boys at the same time, my face didn't look too bad. My lip was cut in a couple of places, and my eye was bruised and starting to swell. There was a dark patch spreading under my right jaw and my hair was disheveled and dirty.

I looked at my hands next, the hands that had seemed so strong before but now felt weak and helpless after my scuffle. The knuckles on my left hand were cut and scraped in places, but overall seemed intact. This made me feel weak, powerless. Had my hands held more damage, I could have confidently felt that I fought to the best of my ability, that I was able to teach those boys a lesson. Instead, the lack of damage to my prominent hand showed my inability to defend myself as a man, and my inability to keep my sister safe.

Livvie and I ate supper separately from Mama and Daddy. All the children from the ranch were fed together in the kitchen, seated at a long wooden table. Mama and Daddy took their supper in the formal dining room. We were not allowed in there, not until we were older and started entertaining company of our own. As I passed the dining room, I was struck again by how helpless I felt, how much like a child. Those boys were my age, yet they seemed more worldly, less infantile. I felt the shame and anger wash over me again as I continued down the hall.

I shuffled into the kitchen and took my place at the table. Livvie sat in her place on my right, sniffling and hiccuping. I turned to face her as she simultaneously turned and faced me. We leaned forward, letting our foreheads touch in silent comfort. This was our own way of sharing our love for each other, to give comfort to one another, to give each other strength. It is something we developed when we were very young and never gave up.

Inez carried our dinner to the table then, setting our plates in front of us. The other children came in to join us, putting an end to our private moment.

"Did Mama punish you, Jasper?" Olivia asked me quietly. I knew her tears were from her fear of me being punished and she was trying not to let on that she had been crying.

"Naw, Livvie," I reassured her. "Mama didn't punish me. Everything is fine."

"Thank you for helping me today, I was scared of those boys," she replied. I covered her hand with my own on top of the table.

"I'll always help you Livvie." She gave me a sweet smile and squeezed my hand in response.

We said our grace and began to eat our supper, laughing and talking with the other children. We varied in ages, but were virtually raised in a pack and were comfortable with each other. The conversations were a mixture of Spanish and English, all of us being able to speak both languages fluently. Most of the ranch hand children were close knit, and Livvie was attached to them as well. I was more standoffish than the others; the only one I was remotely close to was Olivia.

As we finished up our supper and prepared to do our evening chores, Inez pulled me aside.

"Niño Jasper," she began, drawing my full attention. "Juan quiere que lo ayudes está tarde en el establo. Él tiene trabajo extra para ti."

_Jasper, Juan would like you to help him in the barn right away this evening. He has extra work for you._

"Sí, señora," I replied, hanging my head. Juan was the head of the ranch hands and Inez's husband. He was solely in charge of keeping me in line while I did my chores. He was a tough man, but fair and affectionate. Juan was like a second father to me, I was terrified at the thought of disappointing him somehow. My mind began to race, wondering why he was giving me extra work. Had Mama really been more disappointed in me than I thought? Did she ask him to punish me by making me do extra work? Did I forget to do something he asked me to? I began to panic, my mind rolling over the possible reasons when Inez

"Detnente! Stop, Jasper!" Inez snapped, clapping her hands together loudly. "Puedo sentir que tienes miedo!" _"I can feel your fear!"_

I tried to calm myself, to reign in my fear as Inez came closer. She placed both of her hands on my face gently. I looked up into her brown eyes and found her smiling at me.

"Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine," she assured me. "Juan is waiting for you out by the barn. Go." She nodded and gave me a slight push in the direction of the back door.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: WOW. I can't believe the response I've gotten. Thank you to everyone who gave it a chance. Thank you to everyone who left a review, I really appreciate it. **_

_**Big ups to my awesome beta, who breaks laws of physics and space time continuum by betaing her beta.**_

_**To mskathy for her love, guidance and sheer awesomeness. Have I told you lately that I love you?**_

_**I don't own the characters, I'm just borrowing them for a while. SM owns all.**_

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Chapter 2

I slowly trudged out towards the barn, my feet almost refusing to carry me towards whatever Juan had in store for me. I couldn't imagine anything good coming from his request.

Juan had been with us since before Livvie and I were born. He was Daddy's first friend from town and was like a second father to me. Daddy spent long spells away from home meeting with cattle buyers, buying feed and medicine for the cattle, supplies for the house and tending to all the family business. This placed Mama in charge of overseeing things at the ranch, which left little time to tend to Livvie and I. Juan and Inez acted as our surrogate parents. We loved them just as much as we loved Mama and Daddy.

Juan was stocky and rugged, the opposite of Daddy's tall and lean build. His brown skin was leathery, cured by hard work and the sun. He was seated on a milking stool on the left side of the open barn doors, watching the men check the cows over before feeding time. He looked over at me, meeting my frightened stare, and I almost froze in place. A wave of fear came over me; I was unsure of my fate. Did Mama ask him to whip me, since Daddy was away? Juan was an intimidating man. I'd seen him handle the boys on the ranch when they got out of hand. The thought of him layin' a whippin' on me made me break out in a sweat. My mouth felt like the desert, my throat was cracked and dry. I slowed my gait slightly, debating on running as far in the opposite direction as my legs would carry me, when he spoke.

"Jasper, ven para acá." _Jasper, come here._

His voice, for all his commanding presence, was soft and welcoming. It was not what I was expecting. I stopped walking and stared at him for a moment, confused. Juan gave me a little smile then and beckoned me towards him with his hand.

Immediate relief washed over me, making my knees buckle slightly. I walked over and stood in front of him, unsure of what to do next. Juan grabbed another stool from just inside the barn door and set it down in front of him. He dipped his head in the direction of the stool, indicating I should sit.

I sat down on the stool and faced Juan, our eyes locking. We stayed this way for a long moment, his dark brown eyes never leaving my gray ones. He was showing me without words that I wasn't being punished. I was being _helped_.

Juan laid his gnarled, labor-hardened hand upon my shoulder, patting it soundly. He took a deep breath, and nodding his head slightly up and down, uttered four words;

"Ya sé todo, Jasper." _I know everything_.

I felt a torrent of emotions. Relief that I wasn't here to be punished, shame for my failure this afternoon, and dread for the unknown tasks that were surely to come.

Juan's hand never left my shoulder as he continued to speak, his English thick and heavily accented in my ears.

"Do not feel shame for your actions today ," he said, tightening his grip on me slightly to emphasize his words. "It takes great courage to face your enemies, and even greater courage to face many at once. Because you did not know how to fight more than one person at the same time, this does not make you weak."

I swallowed loudly.

Juan grabbed both of my shoulders in his strong hands then, and leaned closer to my face, our noses almost touching.

"It makes you _strong_," he said with conviction. "There is no weakness in losing a fight against multiple enemies, only weakness in not trying at all." He paused, letting his words sink in.

I sat still, thinking over everything he said to me. Did the fact that I attempted to take on three people at one time really make me a strong person? For the first time that day, I began to feel that I could let go of my shame.

Juan stood up then, brushing the dust off the seat of his pants and returned the stool to its spot just the inside the barn door. He stepped past me, clapping me hard on the back.

"Come, let's get to work!" he said, continuing on his path around the back of the barn. I scrambled off my stool and returned it to the barn, running to catch up with Juan. When I caught up with him, he was standing with three of the other ranch boys, deep in quiet conversation. I stood by idly, waiting for my chore instructions.

Juan turned away from the boys and faced me. "Jasper," he said. "Our work today will begin with a history lesson."

I was shocked. Juan wasn't much of a talker, preferring to say only what was necessary to get through the day. His announcement of a history lesson intrigued me and I could do nothing except wait for what he would say next.

"Long ago," he began, "my people were the creators of a powerful civilization. We built great cities in deference to our gods. In those times, all boys were trained in the art of warfare. It was the duty of men to be warriors, to protect the land and their families. Fighting and the art of war were considered sacred, something that pleased the gods."

I stared in rapt attention. I had never heard Juan say so much all at once, and something emanating from his words struck a chord deep within me. I nodded, showing him that I was paying attention and silently begging him to continue.

"In those days, it was not the goal of the warrior to kill his enemy, but rather to fight gallantly and outwit his opponents," he said. "They were expected to take their enemies captive, to prove their prowess and fighting ability."

"When the Spanish came and conquered our cities, most of that way of life was lost to us," he said, his voice slightly bitter. "Our Sun God was replaced with the Christian God, social classes dissolved. As generations were born and multiplied, we forgot the old ways. We left behind the temples and rituals to join the Christians in the new world."

His eyes crackled then with something I could not immediately define. He stood up straighter, rolling his shoulders back. _Pride_. Pride laced his voice and wrapped around his rugged frame as he continued.

"We could not, however, forget our legacy of battle. We had to continue to protect our families, so we did not completely lose our warrior selves."

He pulled a red bandana from his back pocket then, swiping it across his sweaty face and tying it around his neck. He then turned to the three boys standing behind him and beckoned them forward.

A sharp memory of the events from this afternoon invaded my mind and I was instantly on alert. _What are they doing? Why are they coming towards me like that?_ Fear flooded my veins; it was so palpable that I almost felt it rolling off of my skin in waves.

"Jasper," Juan said sharply. I turned my gaze to him.

"Today you have shown that it is time you left your boyhood behind." His voice was a low, authoritative growl. "It is time to become a man, to protect your family. Your father is not here enough to begin to teach you what you need to know, so you will learn from me. Watch. Listen."

He turned around and faced the boys that were advancing on him. I watched in awe as Juan shifted into a half crouch and started to move to his right, keeping his eyes on all three boys. The boys did the same; shifting into a half crouch and beginning to circle around Juan. I tensed, almost mimicking their posture in my agitation. One of the boys finally rushed forward, igniting the other two and sending them all exploding towards Juan.

My tense muscles jolted, and I watched in silent awe as Juan not only stopped the advances of the boys, but had them lying flat on their backs in the dirt in less than a minute. It was so fast my mind couldn't process everything that happened.

He turned around then and faced me as the other boys picked themselves up off the ground.

"Come, Jasper." He beckoned to me. "Let us begin our work."

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Training became part of my daily chores on the ranch. Every day when I would come home from school, I would immediately throw down my books and burst through the kitchen door, sprinting over towards the barn where Juan and the others would be waiting for me.

We would spend one hour working on fighting skills: self defense, punches, blocks, fighting multiple opponents. My knees were almost permanently scraped and bruised, my arms sore, my legs aching from dodging and kicking, punching and grappling, and rolling around in the dirt with the other boys. These aches and wounds I bore with pride over the next six years.

I mastered singular hand to hand combat as well as multiple opponents. I learned deadly skill with a knife, with a pistol, with a rifle, and with my bare hands. I learned to use my senses to gain advantage over my opponent: how the breeze blew their scent towards me, how their boots sounded on the ground as they sprang towards me to attack, the slight change in their posture. A slight twitch of a hand, or change of facial expression told me everything they were planning to do. I read them like an open book, their intentions laid bare before me.

Once I mastered the ability to read people visually, I trained blindfolded. I trained with rags stuffed into my ears to shut out sound. Each removal of one of my senses would heighten the others until they were all as sharp as the blade of my bowie knife.

By the time I was 15, I had beaten every boy and every man on the ranch multiple times in a match, including Juan.

My long days of working and training with the men had transformed me. I had grown tall, reaching over 6 feet. My once spindly frame was now a mass of taught, lean muscle. Gone was the shy, reticent boy of my youth. That child was replaced by a strong, confident man.

Those were some of the happiest days of my existence. Life on our homestead was rugged, but behind all our hard work was a strong love that bound us together.

Olivia and I used to take walks in the pastures when we could achieve respite from our housework. It was our favorite time together, with no adult eyes prying into our secret conversations. We were free to be close to one another when we were together, away from the slightly scolding looks of Mama and Daddy who thought we were too old for such behavior.

I had finished all my work early one day. Daddy was away on business again, and Mama, Olivia and the other ranch ladies were canning fruit in the kitchen. I peeked my head in the back door, meeting first Mama's eyes and then Olivia's. I cocked my head to the side and tossed it back, signaling to Livvie to come out with me. She looked to Mama for permission first. Mama smiled, slowly nodding her permission for Livvie to come out. Olivia took off her apron, hanging it on the hook by the door.

"Not too long now, y' hear me Jasper? Olivia?" Mama said sternly, but with a twinkle of humor in her eye.

"Yes, Mama," Livvie and I said in unison. We looked at each other and began to laugh, running out towards the expansive pasture and our small scrap of freedom.

When we could no longer see the house, we stopped running and stood still for a moment, our foreheads touching and hands clasped together. Olivia and I no longer shared a room, so we took these moments to reconnect whenever we could. I took advantage then, as I always did in these moments, and I reached out and snatched the bonnet off of her head, waiving it in her face and grinning like the devil.

"Jasper Whitlock! Give that back right NOW!" she screeched in a mix of fury and delight. I was much taller than she was, and I held her cap high out of her reach as she swiped and jumped for it.

"Come on and get it if you want it so badly," I teased, and took off running with Livvie screaming and laughing after me. I let her chase me for a while, grabbing her when she caught up to me and tickling her until she was out of breath and begging me to stop.

We sat together then, looking out over the expansive plain of grassland, our shoulders touching. We were quiet; a companionable silence. Livvie always made me feel at ease, but I could tell she was nervous.

"What's wrong, Livvie?"

She heaved a heavy sigh, but didn't look at me. "Jasper, what happens when I get married? Where will I live?"

I plucked a piece of sweetgrass and stuck the end into my mouth to chew, contemplating my words. "I don't really know Livvie. I don't know anyone who would want to marry such an ugly girl," I said with a wink. Teasing her was one of my favorite things to do.

"Stop that, Jasper, I'm serious!" she said, smacking my arm playfully. She became solemn again after a moment. "I don't want to leave here. I don't want to live far away from you," she said in earnest.

"I'm not sure there's anythin' we can do about that," I replied. My heart felt heavy in my chest. "We can only hope you find a man who loves ranchin' and ugly blonde haired girls," I said, trying to lighten her mood.

She grinned at me. "You'll be lucky to find a wife at all, Jasper Whitlock! Ladies like a handsome man who cleans himself up once in a while. That puts you right out of the runnin'," she teased back, gesturing towards my dirt-smudged shirt and dusty work pants. She poked my shoulder with her dainty fingers to emphasize her words.

"Guess I'll just have to be a gamblin', drinkin' bachelor the rest of my life. Damn shame." I reclined back on the grass then, folding my hands under my head and closing my eyes with a smirk.

"You're awful," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She stayed that way for a moment, and then lay back in the grass, resting her head on my crooked arm. I knew there was more she wanted to say, but I gave her the silence she seemed to need.

We lay there for an immeasurable amount of time, watching the clouds roll over the sky. Olivia was reaching marriagable age. Soon she would need to come out into society and be presented as an eligible Belle. I tried to maintain a calm exterior, but it worried me more than I let on to anyone, including Olivia. I prayed every night that she would not only find a good man, but someone who would live close to us so we could see each other often. I wanted to be close to her, close to the children she would have. I never gave much thought to marriage myself, being more interested in school and my duties at home. Mama continued to point out the up and coming daughters of her friends at church and social gatherings, but I wasn't interested. I was polite and gentlemanly, dancing with the girls at the socials and making them blush, but I never felt any spark of attraction for them. I knew the girls whispered about me, calling me "handsome" and "charming." This would usually make other boys pay more attention to them, but it only seemed to make me ignore them more.

We sat up and I stretched my arms above my head. I pulled the sweetgrass from my mouth and pitched it to the ground.

"Daddy should be comin' home today I reckon," I said, scanning the horizon.

"I hope he was able to find the fabric Mama wanted for my new dress," Livvie said. "Mama said it's for the big party they're hostin' for me. I'm excited to see what it looks like." She scanned the horizon then too, her eyes panning left and right. "I miss him when he's gone," she said with a small sigh.

"Me too Livvie, but someone has to handle our needs and business in town," I said. "Come on, let's get back to the house. I want to be there when he gets home." I stood up, brushing off the seat of my pants and holding my hand out to help her up.

We walked towards the house slowly, savoring the end of our respite together. We were about halfway home, when we heard the steady beat of horse hooves off in the distance.

"Could that be Daddy?" Livvie asked excitedly.

"I don't know, Livvie," I said hesitantly. Our home was fairly well staked, our territory secure and well marked. Still, stories floated around of rogue bands of Indians raiding the homesteads in the region. We were too far from the house to make a run for it, so I prepared myself to protect Olivia.

We stayed still for a moment while the horses drew closer. I could discern three horses with riders coming towards us by the sound of their hooves on the ground. My eyes panned the area, searching for a glimpse of what was rapidly coming towards us. They finally came in to view on the horizon. I kept Livvie behind me, preparing to defend her.

As the horses drew closer and my vision became clearer, I felt my world begin to crumble around me.

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**A/N: **Thank you to starlightsuccubus for fixing my Spanish.

_**I like reviews. They make me happy. **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N I can't believe the response I've gotten! Thank you all so much for reading. I'm overwhelmed with happiness. I hope you all stick with me. **_

_**Thanks to the wife for beta duties and talking me off the ledge, again. Big thanks to starlightsuccubus for correcting my Spanish. Big ups to the WC girls, the twitter crew, and mskathy my first FF love. **_

_**On with the show.**_

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_…and I felt my world crumble around me._

"Sweet Jesus," I muttered under my breath. I turned and faced Olivia and spoke louder. "It's Daddy."

Olivia's face became momentarily excited, but crumpled when she took in my expression. In that moment, she knew our hope for a happy reunion was shattered.

The closer they came, the more I could see that something was definitely wrong with our father. Daddy was sitting astride his horse, but just barely. His companion was riding next to him, keeping his hand outstretched in case my father's balance faltered. They were riding directly towards us, quickly closing the distance.

"Jasper, what's wrong with Daddy?"

I shook my head in confusion. "I don't know, Livvie. Come on!" I latched onto Olivia's arm, dragging her behind me as I started running to meet them.

It wasn't long before we came together in the field, the horse's hooves making deep gashes in the earth as they came to an abrupt halt.

I surveyed the scene in front of me. Daddy was slumped over in his saddle; one hand was wrapped in the reigns and the other clutching his chest. His skin was pale and sweaty, his breathing labored. His eyes were glassy, unfocused. His companion, one of our ranch hands, was visibly shaken, watching me nervously. Sweat was running down his face and he was gasping for breath. His eyes were shifting nervously between my father and I; I could almost taste his agitation. The horses were lathered; they must have been riding hard for some time to get home. They continued to heave and shuffle, pawing the ground and snorting in effort to come down from their hard run. The air was thick with tension and urgency.

I was still clutching Olivia's arm; she was trembling and whimpering, her hand over her mouth. She peeked around me to look at our father and gasped, her eyes going wide with horror. I felt her trembling increase and her breath came in sobs. "Daddy...," she said, her voice thick with tears.

Pushing down my fear and anxiety, I willed myself to be calm. Looking past my father to his companion, I spoke in the most soothing voice I could muster.

"What happened?"

He slightly relaxed at my tone of voice, running a shaking hand over his eyes. He took a deep breath and met my gaze before speaking.

"We were about halfway back to the ranch when your father's horse began to limp. We stopped and he dismounted to see what was wrong…" he hesitated, choking with emotion at the memory. "A snake spooked the horse and your father was trampled. I managed to catch the horse. I got him back into the saddle, and we rode back here as fast as we could. He has been getting worse along the way..." he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

I squelched my terror for my father, realizing it was up to me now to control the situation. "Where was he injured?" I asked, hoping against hope that it was not somewhere vital.

"The horse kicked him with both forelegs in the chest, knocking him to the ground," he explained in a whisper. "By the time I was able to drag him away, it had stomped him several times. It was going after the snake… your father just got in the way," he said, shaking his head sadly.

Olivia was crying softly behind me, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the sound. I swallowed back the tears that were threatening to spill. I needed to act fast; we were in a desperate situation.

"You...Alejandro," I said, recalling his name. "Take Olivia and continue on to the ranch. Tell Mrs. Whitlock what happened and that I'm bringing Mr. Whitlock to the house, she'll need to be ready for us."

I dragged Olivia over and helped her up onto the back of the horse.

"Livvie," I said, taking her hand and urging her to focus on my voice. "Sweet girl, help Mama get the house ready. I'll be along as soon as I can." She looked at me, her eyes spilling over with tears as she wrapped her arms around Alejandro's waist.

"Please hurry Jasper," she said with a sob. I bit my tongue, trying desperately to keep myself from sobbing with her. I nodded, looking away from her and smacked the horse's flank, urging it into a fast run down the plain towards the ranch.

I grabbed onto the reigns of Daddy's horse and swung myself up into the saddle behind him. As I clutched him to me firmly, but gently, I felt him spasm and a gurgling sound came from his parted lips. I could hear the blood bubbling in his chest. He turned his head slightly towards me and whispered.

"Jasper......" The sound was relief, it was a plea for help. It was the most frightening thing I had ever heard.

My terror engulfed me, bile rising into my throat and my chest constricting. My father's hand clutched tighter to mine momentarily before going slack. My breath hitched and the tears that I had held at bay finally broke loose.

"I'm here, Daddy," I choked. "We're goin' home now. You're goin' to be fine." I sent up a silent prayer to make my words true.

As I turned us towards home, Daddy lost consciousness and slumped forward in the saddle. I spurred the horse hard and raced down the prairie, holding him securely to me and trying to rob Death of his prize.

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The house was a flurry of activity when we arrived. Juan and Inez were the first out to meet me, followed by two more of the ranch hands. Mama appeared in the doorway, her face pale and drawn. When she saw us, she gripped the door frame in her hands, her knuckles white with the effort of keeping herself upright.

The men pulled Daddy out of the saddle and carried him into the house, Inez running in front of them to prepare.

"Take him into the bedroom, hurry!" Mama yelled, her voice shaking. Daddy was still unconscious, his breaths sounding wet and bubbling in his chest.

Mama rushed down the hall after them, Livvie and I close on her heels. The men brought Daddy over to the bed and laid him down gently.

"Prop his head up with the pillows," Mama said, her voice barely containing her panic. "He's havin' trouble breathin'."

Juan lifted my father's upper body gently and the men took all the pillows from the bed and propped him up. He groaned as he regained consciousness, and then began coughing. A thin film of blood coated his bottom lip and when he opened his eyes, they were dark and pained. I felt helpless, like I had been set adrift in the river. I needed to get control of this before I was dragged away by the raw panic bubbling inside of me.

I turned to the nearest man, channeling my rage and despair into orders. "You! Ride into town and fetch the doctor. NOW!" I shouted. Olivia reached out and touched my arm, trying to soothe me. Mama gave me a sad look before turning her attention back to my father on the bed.

Inez's small hand fell upon my shoulder. I whirled around and looked at her, seeing the resignation etched on every inch of her face. "Jasper, niño, the doctor cannot help your father now," she sighed. "We can only make him as comfortable as possible, he does not have much time left. His ribs were crushed by the horse. His lung is punctured and he is bleeding on the inside. The pressure will soon get to his heart..."

"What are you sayin'?" I asked in disbelief. I couldn't wrap my mind around what she was trying to tell me. I couldn't accept that my father was going to die.

Tears sprang from Inez's eyes as she answered me. "Tu padre no va a sobrevivr la noche, Jasper. Ya no hay nada que lo pueda salvar."

_Your father will not survive the night, Jasper. Nothing can save him now._

Livvie sank into the chair in the corner of Mama and Daddy's room then, sobbing in earnest with her face in her hands. Mama kept her attention on my father, dabbing at his mouth with a cloth and praying under her breath, her shoulders set in resignation. Daddy continued to struggle with each breath. He was beginning to drown in his own blood.

"...water. Jasper.....water....." Daddy was begging, his voice faint and underwater sounding. His eyes were boring into mine and I could feel his pain, could feel each stabbing breath as if it were my own.

Juan pulled me aside, speaking in a low murmur. "We cannot give him water, Jasper. It will only make the pain worse, draw it out longer. You must find another way to help him."

I met his eyes, a silent understanding passing between us. I knew in that moment what I had to do.

My father was suffering in pain, dying without dignity. This was not the way he would have wanted to go. I had to help him. I had to be the dutiful son and brother and shoulder this responsibility. I took a deep breath, and, pushing all my grief and feelings of loss down deep inside me, turned to my mother.

"Where is the laudanum?" I whispered.

Mama looked at me for a long moment, and then nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

"Inside my dressing table by the window. Top drawer on the left."

I turned and walked to where Livvie sat stunned, still crying. I knelt down in front of her and took both of her hands in mine.

"Livvie, you need to make your peace with Daddy now," I said in a shaky voice. I touched my forehead to hers, trying to give her strength to say her goodbyes.

She stood then, and I gave her my handkerchief to wipe her face. We looked at each other, silent words of courage and love passing between us, before she started towards the bed while I moved towards the dressing table.

I took one short moment to process what was happening. One split second of time to reconcile myself with what I was about to do. I gripped the top of the table, my forearms and hands aching with the strain. I clamped my lips shut over the screams that wanted to escape; I held my breath against the sobs that wanted to rip from my chest.

"Jasper," Juan's voice broke through my consciousness, bringing me back to the present. "We must act quickly, before there is too much blood. He will not be able to swallow then."

I nodded, wrenching open the drawer and grabbing the little brown bottle.

I moved swiftly then; not to hasten the act I was about to perform, but to not miss my window of opportunity to bring my father to peace. As I approached the bed, he looked at me. Seeing the bottle in my hands, he nodded, his face a swirling torrent of relief and pain. Mama and Olivia began to cry earnestly, wailing and keening in their grief together.

I sat down next to him on the bed and uncorked the bottle, trying to keep my hands steady. For the smallest second, I was overcome with doubt. Sorrow gripped my heart, freezing my limbs and making it impossible for me to continue. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force myself to move, just move so I could continue this journey to help my father. I feared I was losing the battle, frozen in place with tears starting to escape my control, when I felt his hand upon me.

"Son, please."

His voice was no more than the faintest whisper, but it carried with it all the weight of the world. My limbs bent to his will and obeyed, the way I had always obeyed his voice. Steeling myself, I met his gaze and held the bottle to his lips.

"Drink, Daddy. This will help you."

I tipped the entire contents of the bottle into his mouth, closing his jaw with my hand and forcing him to swallow the bitter liquid. He began to cough violently, spraying blood across the coverlet of the bed and clawing at his chest. I dropped the bottle and faintly heard it shatter on the floor as I grasped both of his hands in my own, forcing him to lay back in the bed. In his bed.

His movements began to slow, his thrashing and coughing ceased. I was finally able to let go of him, he lay still and quiet upon the pillows. I settled his hands on his stomach and watched him then, unable to tear myself away. I watched as his body began to relax, his breathing slowed.

Slower now; his eyes slipped closed, his face going slack.

Slower; his chest barely rising and falling with each shallow breath.

Slower still; his hands falling limply from his stomach to the bed.

Slower; so slow I could no longer hear his breathing, could no longer see the minute movements of his body that indicated life was within.

I bent forward, my ear falling to his chest. I stayed for a moment, straining to hear his heartbeat. It had stopped.

There was no sound within the room. I could hear the crickets chirping in the twilight, the lowing of the cattle, the silent screaming inside my own head. I could not hear him any longer, he was gone.

"He's gone." My voice sounded hollow, emotionless.

Inez collapsed into Juan's arms, weeping in earnest. Mama and Livvie were seated on the floor next to the bed, clinging to each other. Mama began to pray, Livvie joining her a second later. I felt lost, set adrift in a sea of grief without oar or anchor. I turned and walked to the window, looking out at all my father had built and letting the sorrow silently carry me along its current.

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It took us three days to prepare everything for the burial. Mama and the other women of the ranch prepared Daddy; his hair was washed and combed, his face powdered and rouged. They dressed him in his best suit. Juan and some of the other men procured the burial coffin and I placed him inside. Once he was secure, he was laid out in the parlor of the house in preparation for the viewing. Mama pulled out our mourning clothes from the trunk in her room, silently mending and altering them as needed. Her grief was quiet, but heavy and dark as the sky just before a summer storm.

The day of the burial dawned clear and bright. I hadn't slept much, my mind full with the knowledge of my new responsibilities to my family and my heart heavy with the loss of my father. I was the only son, which made me the man of the household now. I had to assume all the duties my father held before me. Mama would be there to help me, but ultimately my family's well being depended upon me. I was determined not to fail them.

We laid Daddy to rest in the ground not far from the house. We all felt he would want to be part of the land that he conquered to build a home and upon which he raised his family. Once we said goodbye to all the well-wishers, Mama and Olivia made their way towards the house. I sat by his grave for a long time, watching the morning become afternoon, and then evening.

There was so much I still wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to share with him as I grew into manhood. I felt robbed, cheated, like he had been taken from under us by a thief in the night.

"Daddy," I croaked out, my voice ragged from lack of use. "I hope you are at peace, wherever you are. I'm sorry you won't be here to see us grow older, to see Olivia marry and have children. If you're listenin', I want you to know that I'll be lookin' out for her now. I'll take care of her and Mama for you. I hope I can make you proud."

I stood then, dusting off the seat of my pants. I turned towards the house and began to slowly walk, leaving my childhood at rest beside my father's headstone.

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**A/N: I know, I know! I'm hiding under a rock at the moment. This was a really hard chapter to write, but necessary for his growth as a person/character.**

**Love it? Hate it? Want my chicken gumbo recipe? Click that button and let me know what you're thinking.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N Apologies for the delay. RL decided to kick my ass for a while with some epic sickness. Luckily I only get sick once every 5 years.**_

_**Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, etc. You keep me going. And holy shit, this story was nominated for an Indie Twific Award, and recommended on The Fictionators blog? Crazy. Thank you to all who thought it was good enough and voted and everything. I am beyond :assfloor: **_

_**I also wrote a one shot for the Love through Lemons contest. It is a glimpse into the future of this story: Alice and Jasper's first sexytime. It's on my page if you want to have a read (it's also my first lemon, so please be nice).**_

_**Thank you to my beta lolashoes for putting up with my stupid shit, 900 chats a day and all my needy, co-dependent phone calls during CC.**_

_**This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I am anticipating the next one to be quite long. **_

_**Stephanie Meyer owns Jasper, but I own Mama and Olivia and the rest of the gang.**_

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Over the next six months, my life changed drastically. I no longer had leisure time to spend reading or on walks with Olivia. My sparring and training with the other men had been reduced to almost nothing compared to our previous daily practice. We had to make do with stolen moments just to keep in shape. Although I had assumed the responsibilities of all the family business in town, Juan accompanied me most of the time, teaching me how to manage the banking duties, buy our household supplies, and handle the needs of the cattle. Mama oversaw everything else at the ranch while I was away. I was glad she was such a strong-willed woman and knew so much about what needed to be done, otherwise we would not have survived.

Mine and Olivia's sixteenth birthday was rapidly approaching. This would be the time that she would be introduced to society, to show that she was ready for courtship and eventually marriage. Mama and Daddy had been planning a large ball since our fifteenth birthday, with the intention of introducing her to the eligible boys in the area. The details of the ball took a great deal of time, effort, and money on their part, but they loved Olivia and wanted to make sure she was well received. They spoke with dress makers, discussed food options with Inez and the other women, and shopped and saved for decorations. Mama made sure all the good silver was polished regularly to prevent tarnishing and that the china was all in order. They knew Olivia would be ready for courtship once she turned sixteen, but didn't anticipate her actually marrying until perhaps nineteen. They were planning on her experiencing long and varied courtships before she was ready for marriage. Of course, all their plans were accelerated when Daddy died.

Mama was still in mourning, but she ended mine and Olivia's official morning period three months after Daddy passed. We still loved and missed him dearly, but we were not required to spend as much time in isolation and mourning as Mama. Our life was hard, it required hard work, and we had to learn to live with our loss and sorrow. If we wanted to continue to live on the ranch we loved so much, we had to move on. Mama presented a calm, controlled exterior during the day, but there were nights when I saw her sitting at her dressing table staring out the window into the darkness, her lips pressed into a hard line against her mounting grief at the loss of her husband. Though she never made a sound, I could almost hear her crying inside my head. I could almost taste the salt of unshed tears in the air. These were the nights that I fought my internal battle against her decision the most.

Mama was determined to find a financially solid match for Livvie, to make sure she was well cared for. With Daddy gone, she had to make sure her future would not be a struggle for survival. I felt she was pushing her too much, that Olivia was too young to be someone's wife instead of her daughter and my sister. I also hoped when she did marry, it would be to someone she loved and who loved her in return. I did not relish the thought of her being married to a wealthy man, where she would be kept as a prize. I did not want my only sister turned into a piece of living art; valued, admired, but never touched or loved. Part of me was being selfish; Olivia was the only person I could relate to and I wanted to keep her to myself. I knew subconsciously she would wed someday, I just didn't think it would be so soon. Mama was subtle, but she was pushing Olivia towards marriage sooner than she and Daddy had originally discussed. I watched as Livvie slowly succumbed to Mama's suggestions and started to follow her line of thinking. I hadn't had much of a chance to talk to Olivia about her coming out ball, but I grew more anxious as each day passed and we drew closer to the event. I wanted to let her know how I felt and see how she _really_ viewed the whole situation.

One morning, about two weeks before the ball, Mama announced at breakfast that she would be taking a trip into town to pick up Olivia's dress and my suit, as well as a few other things for the party. I was torn between my duty to help Mama and my overwhelming need to speak with Livvie.

"Would you like me to accompany you, Mama?" I asked, hoping she would say no. This would be my only chance to talk to Olivia alone before the ball.

"No, Jasper," she replied with a half-smile. "I'm perfectly capable of doing my errands in town unaccompanied. I will be gone until sundown most likely. I expect you to handle things here while I'm gone." She rose from the table and walked towards the parlor to retrieve her cloak and gloves. "Olivia, I expect you'll work on your sewin' this afternoon?"

Olivia looked up from her from her breakfast plate. "Yes, Mama," she said brightly. "I'm almost finished with the gloves, so perhaps I can get them done today."

Mama nodded her head in agreement, and then gathered her bag and parasol. Inez and two of the other girls were going along to assist with her errands and purchases. They were already hauling themselves into the wagon when we walked outside. I offered Mama my arm, walking her to the wagon and helping her up into the driving seat.

Mama settled herself in, handing her things back to Inez. Grasping the reins in her left hand, she straightened her skirt with her right and turned to me, eyes steely and piercing.

"Jasper Whitlock, I expect everythin' to be the same way I left it when I return home, do I make myself clear?"

Mama never missed anything. She knew I wanted to talk to Livvie. I had to somehow convince her that everything would remain unchanged, yet still find a way to say what I needed to say to my sister. I met her hard stare with the widest, most innocent smile I could conjure, turning on every ounce of charm I possessed.

"Of course, Mama. I'll take care of everything." I made a little half bow with my head, looking at her through my thick lashes and smiling devilishly. Mama's stoic exterior cracked. She smiled warmly at me and shook her head before heading off towards town.

I began my rounds on the ranch, thinking over how I wanted to open this subject to Olivia.

_How can I discuss this with her and not alert Mama to what I said? _

_Is this what she really wants? _

_Is she ready to be married? _

_Is she interested in boys at all?_ I knew I wasn't very interested in girls, preferring to keep to myself and my family, so I had assumed she was similarly indifferent. Was I wrong about her feelings?

_Maybe I should just leave it be, not bring up the subject at all?_ A battle waged in my mind while I tried to work, and I realized that I had been staring off into space in front of the barn for several minutes when I heard the ranch hands whistling and shouting for my attention. I sighed, giving in to my need to have this talk. I wasn't accomplishing anything anyway. I turned over the remainder of the work to the other men and made my way back towards the house.

Stepping into the washroom to wash the dust and grime from my face and hands, I tried to find the right words to start this conversation. I walked past the parlor entrance and saw Livvie sitting with her sewing, the afternoon sun blazing a halo around her hair. She looked almost angelic. She was working on a pair of lace gloves, sewing infinite tiny stitches with an even tinier needle and humming contentedly under her breath. I continued past the door and down the hall, trying to collect my thoughts. Thinking I was ready, I walked past the door again, hesitating momentarily at the entrance before continuing on towards the washroom. I still could not think of a way to broach the subject without making it seem like I was disapproving of her actions. I didn't want to upset her. Mulling it over in my head again, I turned around and walked back toward the parlor entrance.

"Jasper Clarence Whitlock, you're wearin' a hole in the floor!" Olivia shrieked, balling up her sewing and tossing it into the basket in exasperation. "Come in here _right now_ and tell me what's eatin' at you!" Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glittering with irritation. I couldn't help but chuckle at her expression; I swore her nostrils were almost flaring.

"Sorry Livvie, I didn't want to disturb you," I muttered, feeling sheepish.

"And you think pacin' back and forth in front of the door with your boot-heels making a racket louder than gunfire helps me concentrate? Honestly!" She scoffed, placing both hands on her hips and shaking her head at me.

I laughed loudly, unable to contain my mirth at her cute, unabashed anger. "I reckon not. May I sit with you a spell?"

Olivia continued to glare at me for a few seconds. I tried to soften her, smiling and winking at her playfully. She scoffed at me and rolled her eyes, but indicated with a tip of her head that I should sit in the chair next to hers.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the peace of the moment and each other's company. Olivia retrieved her sewing from the basket, starting her tiny stitches again before speaking.

"What's on your mind Jasper?"

"Nothin'. I just wanted some company is all," I fibbed. I don't know why I did, Olivia could always tell when I was lying.

"That dog won't hunt, Jasper. Not at all," she huffed, wagging her finger at me. "Now care to tell me what is really on your mind, or should I just ignore your humbug and get back to my business?"

"Are you ready for the ball?" I asked quietly. I was treading on eggshells.

"Not yet," she chirped. "I have to finish these gloves that you are determined to distract me from and get my final fitting on my dress and..."

I cut her off. "I'm serious, Olivia."

"I know you are, Jasper. Why wouldn't I be ready? This is what girls do you know." She spoke like she was addressing a child, keeping her focus on her sewing. I felt out of sorts; Olivia had almost dismissed me from this conversation. She and I had always been on the same side, and now I felt as though we were talking over a fence, unable to be on the same side. My chest constricted with anxiety. I needed to make her understand.

"I know, but do you think you're _ready." _I was getting agitated. This is not how I pictured our discussion. My palms were starting to sweat.

She caught my meaning then, tuning in to my unease. Placing her sewing back in the basket with a sigh, she turned and looked at me. "Am I ready to get married right this second? No. Am I ready to entertain the possibility of being married? Yes."

"_Yes_?" I was slightly shocked; I couldn't think of another response.

"Yes! Jasper, I'm almost 16 years old. I like boys. I hope boys like me. Someday I hope a boy will like me enough to marry me."

"Livvie, I think Mama..."

"Wants what is best for me, Jasper. Best for _us_. Can't you see that?" She begged me to understand with her eyes, reaching her hands out toward me.

I stood up, scrubbing my hands through my hair and unleashing all the pent up anger and frustration at this situation upon her. "I just think it's too soon for you to go runnin' off to be someone's wife!" I roared at her, my voice cracking with the strain of my overwhelming emotions.

Olivia sat silent in the face of my outburst. I sank back down into the chair, my head hanging and my face in my hands. I felt tired, defeated. I had never yelled at Olivia before, and I was ashamed of my outburst.

"Jasper, look at me." Her voice was calm and level.

Sighing heavily, I lifted my head from my hands and looked at her; her honey hair shining golden in the sunlight through the window, her skin soft and luminous. She stayed silent while I studied her face, her dainty hands, her knowing smile. I felt like I was looking at her for the last time; my childhood confidant, my best friend, my sister. My eyes began to prick with tears.

"Jasper," she spoke softly. "Even if I'm not here physically, I'll always be with you. You'll always carry part of me with you, the same way I will carry part of you with me. We have a bond stronger than blood ties, stronger than friendship or family. No distance, no amount of time, no outside parties can break that bond, do you understand? Even if I move away to the other side of the world, _I will never be far away from you." _She took both of my hands in hers and leaned forward, resting her forehead against mine and closing her eyes.

There was nothing more I could say. Her words brought me some measure of comfort, but I knew there would be a dark empty space in my heart when Olivia left our home for good.

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_**A/N: As if I didn't say enough in the epic opening note, I am debating offering teasers for reviews. If you like this idea, drop me a line and I might send you something!**_


	5. Chapter 5 Frustration

**Yes, it's been 100 years. If you're still around, thanks for being here. Thanks to my beta, to my husband and to everyone who gives this thing a shot. It's much appreciated.**

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"The Davenport Family!" Juan announced from the foyer. I smoothed my jacket and straightened my tie, preparing to meet more of the endless guests to Olivia's ball. It seemed Mama had invited half the county. Any family with sons of marrying age, hell even _close_ to marrying age, were asked to attend. We were an hour into it and I had already made pleasantries with nine different families, most of whose names I could no longer remember.

I stepped forward to greet our new guests. "Good evenin', Mr. Davenport."

"Good evenin', young Mr. Whitlock, Mrs. Whitlock. Thank you for invitin' us."

"Mrs. Davenport, lovely to see you." I kissed the top of her hand, smirking devilishly.

"Young Jasper Whitlock," she grinned back and curtsied, blushing slightly. "My sons Joseph and Robert," she indicated with a sweep of her gloved hand.

I straightened up, bristling slightly as I extended my hand. "Robert." I shook his hand firmly, trying to convey more than just "welcome" in my grip, and did not break eye contact. I wanted the ladies to be charmed and have a grand time, but the boys I wanted to keep as far away from Olivia as I could. I felt like she was being observed like livestock and it raised my ire.

"Joseph," I said curtly, repeating the same absolutions. Both boys nodded and muttered their greetings before excusing themselves to mingle with the others. I let my eyes follow them for a moment before surveying the rest of the guests in the room. Mama had been talking with Mrs. Davenport, and when she walked away Mama sidled up to me, nodding and smiling at the people who greeted her.

"Your sister appears to be havin' a grand time."

I followed her gaze across the room to where Olivia was sitting with some of the other women. She was laughing enthusiastically at something they were whispering to her.

"She sure does Mama, as does half the county," I replied smartly, gesturing to the milling crowd.

"Hush," she snapped, smacking the back of my hand with her fan. "I wanted to make sure there were enough people to mingle and dance with for both of you."

"Well, you made sure of that. I'm not sure we can fit many more people in here."

Mama turned her head slightly towards me. "I see you ran the Davenport boys off right quickly," she said, a smile plastered on her mouth for the guests and daggers in her eyes for me.

"I didn't say anythin' to them Mama, other than polite greetin's," I replied shortly, tugging on my shirt cuffs and straightening my tie. It suddenly seemed very hot in the room.

"Hmmm. Make sure it stays that way, Jasper. I won't have you runnin' off all the boys that are here to visit with Olivia."

I scowled at her.

"Yes, Ma'am." I was seething slightly. I felt like we were in a room full of circling buzzards, all of them waiting to pounce upon my poor sister. The thought of her possibly being married to any of these boys made my skin crawl.

"The Marchbanks family!" Juan announced from the foyer.

I was shocked. I turned to look at Mama, only to find her deliberately avoiding me. Horatio and Constance Marchbanks were one of the wealthiest families in the area. They came from old money, and carried with them the arrogance that usually comes part and parcel with old money. Their daughter, Rebecca, was considered quite a looker at sixteen. I found her to be an intolerable shrew of a girl; gossipy and haughty. Their son, Isaac, was one of the boys that picked on Olivia when we were children. He and his group of friends were the same boys I scuffled with and came home shamed and bruised from the encounter. I had _never_ liked him. As a child he carried himself with an air of cruelty and arrogance. As he grew older, he projected a façade of a gentleman, but under the surface I could sense the devil living inside him. I was nauseated that he was breathing the same air as Olivia.

Mama knew all this. She knew the family, she knew our history with Isaac. She knew how Rebecca was fleeting in her friendships and had been less than civil to Livvie on more than one occasion. I could not fathom why they were now making their way towards us for pleasantries.

"Mrs. Whitlock, how kind of you to extend us an invitation," Horatio said, bending to kiss the top of Mama's hand. I was nearly writhing in my anger and irritation. "And young Mr. Whitlock, my, my. You have grown, my boy."

I swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat and stepped forward, extending my hand. "Mr. Marchbanks, so kind of you to come," I said, shaking his hand. I then turned to greet his wife, trying to reign in my anger. "Mrs. Marchbanks, you look lovely this evening." I took her hand, brushing the top ever so slightly with my lips. I instantly felt sullied and dirty, and let go of her hand as quickly as I could without appearing outwardly rude.

"Why, thank you Jasper. I'm sure you know my daughter, Rebecca?" Constance said, beckoning her forward with her hand towards me. Rebecca regarded me coyly, fluttering her eyelashes and covering her face with her fan. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at her behavior.

"Good evenin', miss Rebecca." I bowed slightly, just enough to be polite.

"Good evenin' Jasper." She curtsied low, looking up at me through her lashes and smiling.

Constance was still hovering nearby, coming forward once our introductions were complete. "Jasper, I trust you will be a gentleman and make sure Rebecca gets a turn upon the floor this evenin'? I don't want her to miss out on all the fun."

I felt trapped. I could not embarrass my family by doing what I so desperately wanted to do: tell this woman that there was no way in hell I would ever be so physically close to her harpy of a daughter. Besides, there wasn't a chance Rebecca would go without male attention this evening. She had her mother's raven black hair and her father's green eyes. Her skin was a pale alabaster, smooth and unblemished. Rebecca took great pride in her looks, and the boys all lapped at her heels regularly. I saw nothing of her beauty when I looked at her, only her ugly and selfish nature. My complete disregard only fueled her fire for me, causing her to hang upon my every word and seek my company whenever we were thrown together socially. It was beyond taxing.

Forcing aside my extreme annoyance at the situation, I smiled. "Of course, Mrs. Marchbanks. I would be honored to dance with Rebecca, if she wishes it?"

"Why, I'd be delighted," Rebecca responded, hiding her face behind her fan.

Isaac then made his way forward and we made curt greetings. There was no reason to publicly broadcast our mutual dislike, but we didn't hide it from each other. He left to mingle with the others quickly, and I was not sorry to see him run off. His mother and sister followed shortly after to mill about with the others and wait for supper.

More families arrived over the course of the next hour: Paul and Sarah-Jane Archer, along with their son Paul Archer II. The Archers were cotton farmers. Newton and Donna Lawrence with their son Morgan. Morgan and I were friendly, having gone to school together for the majority of our lives. The Lawrence family were ranchers, like us. They were kind people. They lived comfortably enough, but were not considered "wealthy". Morgan was a quiet boy, deep thinking but of few words. He had eyes for Livvie ever since we were children, and he was the only person that didn't make me feel like pummeling him when he looked at her with adoration.

Mama finally announced supper about six o' clock, ushering everyone into the large dining room. We were all seated at the table; Mama sat on one end and I sat on the other. Livvie sat next to Mama, flocked all around by the Marchbanks and Newton families.

Conversation was lively. The Lawrence's sat close to me through supper, and we talked mostly about ranch business. The price of cattle was steady, and we were all doing well for these times. I noticed Morgan sneaking looks at Olivia through most of the meal. I had to repress a smile; he was always seeking her out. Isaac Marchbanks was seated across and two people down from Olivia, but it didn't stop him from trying to monopolize her throughout dinner. His very presence in our house made my blood boil. Olivia seemed to be enjoying his attention, which just made my ill humor that much worse. I couldn't wait for this evening to end.

Once supper was over, Mama announced that dancing would be held in our large barn. We had spent the better part of two days clearing and airing it out for this purpose. The floor had been scrubbed clean and oiled, and a section was set aside for the musicians. Benches and chairs were arranged in an arc around the main floor area, and a small refreshment table was set up on the opposite side of the main entrance.

Everyone began making their way out the front door toward the barn in small groups. I lagged behind, finishing a conversation with Mr. Archer about some cotton seed feed for the cattle when Mama caught my attention.

"Jasper, could you please escort Miss Rebecca out? I have some things I'd like to talk with Constance about." Mama quickly latched on to Mrs. Marchbanks, hauling her out of the room and not leaving me any reasonable excuse to say no. Isaac was already escorting Livvie outside, and Mr. Archer had excused himself. Not wanting to appear rude, I offered my arm.

"Shall we, Rebecca?"

"Why yes, Jasper, thank you kindly," she said, taking my arm and smiling smugly. Rebecca prattled on while we walked towards the barn, but I tried to tune her out. Her conversation topics were insipid and uninteresting: clothing, shops, money, town gossip. I nodded at the appropriate moments, never giving her more than a "hmm" in response. I began to count the steps left to get to the barn, where I might be able to find a reasonable excuse to free myself of her company. Perhaps her constant nattering had made her thirsty; I could offer to get her a drink. She must be absolutely _parched_. I think the punchbowl was blessedly on the other end of the barn, it could take me quite a spell of time to get there, let alone get back with-

"Jasper Whitlock! Did you hear _anythin_' I said?" she shrieked. Her voice had a sharp, screechy edge to it that crawled right up my spine.

I looked around to see if she had attracted any attention with her yelling. Luckily everyone seemed to be inside already and she had not drawn unwanted attention to us. I had to think quickly though, before I provoked another outburst.

"I'm sorry Miss Rebecca. I was simply imaginin' how fine you would look waltzin' with me. Would you care to dance?" I asked with a smile.

This seemed to smooth her ruffled feathers. Smiling demurely, she placed her hand in my outstretched one. "I'd love to, Jasper. Thank you." I sighed quietly, happy to have diffused the explosion for the moment.

I led her near the center of the dance area. Once she was facing me, I drew my right hand around her, placing it lightly under her left shoulder blade. She slid her left hand slowly up my arm and placed it on top of my right shoulder, squeezing slightly. I swallowed hard, my skin crawling at her touch. Her behavior was nothing short of scandalous, and I wanted nothing to do with such a lewd girl.

As I led us through the dance, I inconspicuously looked around the room for Olivia. I finally spied her on the floor, dancing with none other than the despicable Isaac. My hatred flared, causing a minute pause in my steps. Rebecca was too busy making eyes at the boys and giving the other girls disdainful looks to notice my slight slip. I was grateful for once for her self-absorbed nature; I didn't want to answer any questions about my behavior. I swear if looks could kill, Isaac Marchbanks would be reduced to a smoldering pile of ashes from my expression.

I had to keep up pretenses of enjoying myself and being a good host, which meant I had to suffer greatly for the good of Olivia and the reputation of my family. I turned that horrid girl around the floor for _six dances_ before I could extract myself from her grasp, explaining that I must check on my beloved Mama and make sure she was not in need of anything.

"Well, all right Jasper. I just can't guarantee that I'll be available for you again, with all the eyes I'm gettin' from the other boys tonight," she replied with an arrogant laugh, fanning herself and looking around the room. I assume this was meant to incite jealousy in me; unfortunately for her I couldn't care less. I tried to mask my extreme delight in being _deprived_ of her company.

"That would definitely be a shame, miss Rebecca, but I can no longer leave my Mama and our guests unattended. Perhaps you would show me some kindness in allowin' me to escort you to your carriage at the end of the evenin', if you indeed have filled your dance card by the time I am finished makin' my rounds?" I gave her a small bow and a smirk. She was used to boys groveling for her attention, so my response caught her off guard. I took the window of opportunity to do an about-face and walk away in search of Mama.

I found her visiting with the older ladies on the other side of the barn. Mama was still in her mourning clothing, but she looked beautiful as she smiled and chatted with the other women. She had been through so much since Daddy died, I was glad she was having a moment of carefree happiness. Then I spied Mrs. Marchbanks sitting next to her, and all happy feelings immediately left me. I wanted to believe that Mama wanted what was best for us. I wanted desperately to believe it, but her actions tonight spoke otherwise. The more she chattered away with Constance Marchbanks, the more I began to doubt her motives. I had to know what she was thinking and what made her invite them to our home. I took a deep breath as I approached her, determined to get to the bottom of this situation.

"Mama, may I have this dance?" I asked, bending forward and offering my hand for her to take.

I caught her off guard. She hesitated for a moment before nodding her acceptance and taking my outstretched hand. I led her to the dance floor and waited for the music to begin again. When the band started playing again, I seized upon the opportunity to speak my mind to Mama. No one would be able to overhear us, so I decided to get right to the heart of the matter.

"How could you invite those people? After everythin' they put Olivia and I through, how could you let them into our house?"

Mama's eyes opened wide with shock for a moment, but she quickly composed herself. "Jasper, when you are older and have your own children, you will understand that sometimes you must make certain decisions for the good of all rather than the good of the individual."

I scoffed at her response." You would persuade her to marry for money and status instead of for love? You'd sell off your own daughter like so much cattle to secure your _own_ future? "

Mama's temper flared. "How dare you say that I'm doin' this for me! This is for your sister's own good!" she spoke in a low hiss.

My own temper flared as well. "What's best for Olivia is to be happy with her life, not to be high up on some social ladder," I growled. "She should be free to make her own choices without your interferin' and pressin' your opinions on her!" The words were pouring out of my mouth in a torrent of anger and frustration. "Isaac tortured Livvie as a child, made her cry more times than I can remember. He and his friends lay a beatin' on me that I never forgot. They shouldn't be within a hundred miles of this house, and yet they're here. Isaac has been with Livvie most of the night, and I've been stuck with his sister as company. I want them _out of my house_!"

Mama clutched hard at my shoulder. The music stopped then, and when we broke apart she spoke to me in a venomous whisper. "Jasper Whitlock, you may be the man of this house, but I am your _mother_. What _I_ say goes. Olivia will do as I say, and _you_ will do as I say. Do I make myself understood?"

I couldn't take it any more. I gave her a short nod and stalked out the back doors into the night, churning and boiling with rage and helplessness. I vented my wrath upon the dirt with my boots, sending large chunks shooting into the darkness. I swore, dragging my fingers through my hair in frustration. I spat upon the ground and gritted my teeth. It wasn't until I stopped to take a deep breath and try to regain control of myself that I heard the voices. Coming from the side of the barn was a low muttering, followed by a smattering of raucous laughter. I started making my way slowly towards the sound. When I caught a few words of the conversation, I began to run.

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